THE WAIF Jack Sprat I shouldn't call him a waif, but he looked like one when I met him. It happened on lower Turk street in San Francisco. Working downtown, I have to push away panhandlers by the dozen, but this kid wasn't panhandling. He was just sitting on the sidewalk, a beaten up suit case next to him. He was sobbing. I stood off a good distance and observed him. I'd guess he was well into his teens. Curiosity got the best of me and I walked over to him. His head was hung, his face hidden in his hands. He didn't notice me. I put my hand on his head. "You're hungry, aren't you?" The kid raised his head, looked at me through red tearful eyes, then buried his face with his hands again. "Come on! Let me buy you something to eat." The boy again lifted his head, stared at me with distrustful eyes, then eased himself to his feet, picked up his suitcase, and sniffled a quiet, appreciative, "Thank you". We walked about a block until I found a local beanery that didn't look too busy. We sat at a booth to the rear of the room. I ordered a large stack of pancakes and a double order of sausage for the kid and coffee for myself. The kid ate rapidly. I sipped my coffee and watched. There was no talking until he was finished, then he told about himself. His name was Jeremey. He had trouble with his family. There was a big fight with his father. His father told him to get the hell out and never come back. Jeremey didn't elaborate farther except to say he had no money, no friends, and no where to go. It looked as if he was going to cry again. I told him to go to the men's room, wash his tear stained face, and comb his hair. He was gone a considerable time. I guess he had another good cry in the men's room, but when he returned his face was clean and his hair was combed. He looked quite handsome. Some life has returned to his eyes. I'm gay. I'm also a benevolent SOB. I was glad to help the kid. But still, in the back of my mind, I was thinking of seduction. If it didn't happen, I'd still feel good about giving a helping hand. We both ordered more coffee, and Jeremey, with a clean face and his stomach full, became more relaxed. He even smiled several times. I suggested he come up to my place and clean up with a good hot shower. It would make him feel a hundred percent better. Jeremey agreed. We arrived. I showed Jeremey the bathroom, handed him a robe, and told him, if he'd like, he could hand his clothes through the door and I would put them in the washer. It was only moments before the door cracked and I was handed his dirty laundry. I'd guess the shower water ran for at least a half hour. Jeremey reappeared in the bath robe, his damp hair completely combed. He looked completely refreshed..Not the waif I had earlier encountered. The washing machine had completed its work, and after tossing his clothes in the dryer, I broke open a bottle of wine and set it on the coffee table. Soon, bottle and both glasses were empty. I had a glow and Jeremey must have one too. The flickering fireplace, background music, and soft lights, also added to our relaxation. I took glances at those well formed legs and feet that showed below the dressing gown, fantasizing what was above. The dryer dinged. I gathered the warm, fresh clothes and handed them to Jeremey. "You should feel even better when you put these back on." Jeremey held the warm, inviting clothes, but knew that after he dressed, he would be out on the street again. His face got long. "Please! Don't send me out on the street again. Can I sleep here tonight?" "You will share my bed?" "I don't mind," Jeremey replied. We went to the bedroom. Jeremey tossed his bundle of clothes in a chair, fished out his briefs, then took off the robe. Gawd! What a body! What a cute butt! I wondered how hard his dick would get if I could get my mouth on it. Jeremey slipped on his shorts. This caused me a little concern. Was he naive, or did he just put on his shorts from habit. The bed was very inviting. Jeremey slipped in first. I stripped to my briefs and followed. I turned on my side. Jeremey moved over and cuddled his warm body. I put my arm around him and pulled him closer. I stroked his hair, lifting it, then letting it fall softly back into place. My hand gently rubbed his chest, moving down, across his navel. Jeremey remained still. My fingers slid to his outer thighs, then reached inward, stroking upwards to the edge of his briefs. I again moved downwards along his inner legs, dropping my elbow, running it across the bulge that filled his briefs. Now it was time. I slipped my hand under his waistband, gently grasping his hard, warm, throbbing cock. Jeremey emitted a low moan but his hands didn't try to stop me. Voluntarily raising, he slipped off his shorts, tossing them to the floor. His bare butt pressed against me, his leg moved over mine, widening his crotch for my access. I couldn't believe the ease of all of this. It seemed that Jeremey wanted it to happen. I slowly pumped his hard erection then reached below, sliding his balls to and fro. I could wait no longer. I slid to a sixty nine. Jeremey put my cock into his mouth and we both entwined into full passion, our hot bodies against each other, both sucking and fondling each others balls. Jeremey came first, his warm fluid spewing into my mouth, pumping stream after stream. I followed, pouring my cum down his throat until I'd given my last drop..This kid certainly was not a virgin. Both breathing heavily, we hugged each other, planting deep kisses, pushing our tongues deep into each others mouths. I pulled back the covers to view this young naked male who had given such pleasure. He was smooth and gorgeous, his skin a vibrant healthy glow. His cut, now limp penis, lay nested in his pubic hair above a pouch holding two, nice, boy balls. I rolled him over. Jeremey voluntarily spread his legs to a wide "V". Nature could have never made a more beautiful butt. Two perfect mounds. I rubbed and kneaded each mound, ran my finger up and down his crack from end to end, then spread these beautiful cheeks where they showed an inner fresh, pink, pucker. I could hold back no longer. I pushed my face into his crack, my tongue delving at his muscle with rapid laps. Jeremey rose to all fours, dropping his shoulders to the covers. My tongue delved deeper, his pucker rolling with my licks. My now roaring hard-on was demanding attention. I spittled it and spittled Jeremeys asshole. Gently pushing in, I watched my red tip disappear. When my pelvis pressed his soft buns, I gripped and gyrated his body, sliding my penis about. My orgasm was immense. I really spaced out. It was the greatest feeling of ecstasy I'd ever experienced. My cum just kept pouring deep into his ass. I was shaking, breathing deeply, and hanging on to his hips, fearful of fainting or my heart exploding any second. I dropped to the bed, spent and exhausted. Jeremey gently massaged me until I came to my senses. Recovering, I pulled him tightly to me, kissing him deeply, feeling his responding tight hug. "My father kicked me out because I'm gay," Jeremey said softly. "Can I stay tomorrow night?" "Please stay for ever," I whispered back. The End